


By the Grace of the Force Go We

by imperator_titus



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Deserted planet, F/M, Force Sensitive OC, Soft Hux, Unfinished, old work is old, self-indulgent bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperator_titus/pseuds/imperator_titus
Summary: After an unfortunate shuttle malfunction, General Hux crash lands on what was thought to be an uninhabited and unimportant planet on his way to a solo mission. He gets some much-needed rest and attention from his mysterious savior in a world far away from all of his old worries. Note: This was my first SW (2016) story long before I intended to post my work and it is unfinished.





	1. Chapter 1

**Whichever lowly technician** had the unfortunate responsibility for General Hux’s personal shuttle that mission had only one hope to escape execution; that the General never returned and that the next officer assumed he had been captured or killed by the Resistance. At the very least there would be a new shuttle commissioned, as the last one, what little was left of it, was lodged in the deep mud that lined the surrounding marsh. The spacecraft’s guidance system had thrown a fatal error and instead of gracefully speeding through the emptiness of space towards its secret solo mission, it inevitably was pulled into the gravitational pull of some planet in a system Hux didn’t even know. Fighting the controls had proved inevitable and what stood between him and death was the miracle chance that the reinforced cockpit landed intact in agreeable terrain. Not knowing what to do, his last resort was to close his eyes and make the second silent prayer of his life before the nose kicked up the wet dirt in a spectacle of burning wreckage. 

As far as Hux had known, this system, and thereby this planet, held no intelligent life nor any special resource. So it had came as a surprise that when he opened his eyes the first thing he noticed was a rough-hewn wooden ceiling. Senses returning, his body felt a soft warmth from a blanket laid over him in a precise manner. Before he could move, a sharp pain, later replaced by his whole body aching, pierced through him and all he could do was gasp and grip the loose covers of the bed beneath him. In his attempt to stop his head from spinning he failed to hear the rhythmic thump of booted feet come from another room. Something cold and wet made contact with his face; a cloth was gently being stroked along his sweaty brow and cheek. He heard a voice, as gentle and soft as its owner’s actions.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything strong enough to help, that medkit from your ship ran out yesterday.”

Finally Hux was able to open his eyes and after a few seconds of blurred vision, a woman’s face came into focus. His first thought was that he had never seen eyes so blue, like a calm ocean glistening in the sun. Her thin nose led to a small smile that was meant to offer comfort and white teeth peeked into view when she noticed his gaze. His mind returned to its normal routine, urging him to brush off her simple ministrations, but he found that the pain left him without the strength to lift his arms.

“Days ago?” His voice was hoarse, but the stranger clearly understood. The cloth warm, she put it down and her eyes lost their happiness as they followed her hand. When she returned to him, they were instead filled with apology.

“Yes, you’ve been lying her for quite a while, maybe ten days. I’ve lost track of the time,” she said simply in an accent he did not quite recognize. Adjusting the blanket, she continued, “you’re quite lucky that shuttle was so well-built and landed in the bog. It might not have held up so well against anything else and I was able to arrive quickly. I had just gotten you out and no more than twenty yards away when it was sucked into the ground. Your ship was swallowed whole in a matter of seconds.”

She stopped, as if to give him some time to think about how he might have been entombed in his precious craft if she had been even a few minutes late. His thoughts were such a jumble that he didn’t know whether he had turned to thank her or ask her where he was, but what he did know was that the motion had made him nauseous and he instead vomited what little was in his stomach onto her legs. Surprisingly she didn’t jump up or scream, her first reaction was to help him roll onto his side and wipe his face with the previously discarded cloth.

“It’ll be ok, just close your eyes and do your best to relax. I know that’ll be hard with the pain you must be in. Let me clean this up and I’ll get you something. It won’t be as good as modern medicine but it’s all I have.” He obediently did as she asked, which he owed to having no other choice, and he was thankful that his world stopped twisting as if looking into a warped mirror. Hux heard the sound of her removing her boots followed by a rustling of fabric that he assumed was her soiled pants. He did not know how much time had passed but to distract himself from his pain he focused on the sound of her uncovered feet. They padded into another room only to quickly return and several objects made their respective noises as she put them down. One was a glass, presumably filled with some liquid for him, and the others he assumed to be for cleaning up the acrid mess. He tried to mumble an apology out of habit but she shushed him quietly and replaced the silence with a soft humming. Again she left and the room smelled like some citrus fruit instead of whatever his stomach could muster and he felt like he could finally breathe. When she returned he could hear a new pair of shoes and the friction in a fresh pair of trousers. Something wooden gently fell on the floor nearby his head.

“Try to drink some water, but don’t strain yourself. Maybe try to get some sleep. I’ll be back,” he heard her, in that careful tone that tried to warm his aches like the soft blanket. When he managed to open his eyes she had already left the room, and in the distance he heard the thud of a door being closed. Using what little strength he had he managed to sit up just enough to take a few sips of water, wary to not give his stomach any more reasons to turn on him again. It was clean and cool against his dry mouth and burning throat. Hux took this opportunity to look at his surroundings.

The wooden sound he had heard before his host and savior left was a bucket, he assumed in order to save the floor from more damage. Everything in the room seemed to be handmade, from the walls themselves to the furniture and decorations. A collection of wood, stone, and other natural elements was everywhere and the structure was a mismatch of colors and states of refinery as they were presumably replaced over time, some being rough while others looked as if they were milled by modern tools. Without being suppressed by the fog of his long slumber, he noticed that what he thought was a small cot was in fact a bed large enough for two people of above average height to comfortably sleep next to each other. As a boy in the Academy he had made do with a single bed a few inches too short for his long legs and as a general he had special ordered one long enough that his feet could never hang off the end.

There were two windows opposite each other that, without glass, let in a gentle breeze that brought with it the smell of trees, grass, and earth. If he focused hard enough he could faintly hear the movement of water and the mixed noise of animal life. The sun was filtered through thin drapes, giving the room a warm glow in the afternoon light. He made out a wooden desk, a simple chest and a bookcase half-filled with what appeared to be ancient tomes and scrolls made from hides or paper. An old tapestry hung on the wall, its pattern undecipherable to him, and on the floor a rug made of some animal’s fur. The bedding was still soft like he had first assumed but it bore the marks of being woven by hand. Over his feet was folded an extra blanket made of sewn-together furs of animals he didn’t recognize.

Still feeling as if his legs were made of lead, Hux resigned to take a few more sips of the clean water, presumably from a nearby stream as his host’s living space offered no sign of modern technology. His body begged to rest but he was determined to stay awake in order to keep his wits and get more answers from this mysterious woman on what he had assumed was an uninhabited planet. By the time the sunlight had faded to an orange glow he heard a door close again and the sound of footsteps. He expected the door to the room to be pushed all the way open again but instead he heard the distant scuff of boots on wood. It was some time before the woman’s body filled the doorway, carrying a wooden tray. Placed on the nearby nightstand he saw that she had brought an old fashioned teapot, a matching cup with saucer, and a plate with fruit, bread, and vegetables.

“I didn’t quite know what you’d like or be able to stomach, so it’s kind of a selection from everything I have in the garden. When the tea is ready it’ll hopefully help with the pain and to get you some more rest. How are you feeling, I guess good enough to sit up?” There was a slight laugh in her voice but her tone was good-natured and soft. Despite her gentle demeanor he had the impression that she was stronger than she seemed. Her clothes were loose and hid her figure but her eyes held an intelligent sharpness behind the caring look. The smile was genuine and he assumed so too was her concern. Hux was about to ask her a question when she spoke up. “I’m sorry, in my rush I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Grace.”

“Y-yes, my name is H-”

“Armitage Hux, commander of the Finalizer, the flagship of the First Order, a fine command for a general.” He gawked, she smiled. His mind raced, how- “I’m sorry, it’s rude to intrude, I’ve been here too long away from people, I’ve forgotten my manners. I’ll try to refrain. Please forgive me.”

“You… read my thoughts?” Aware, he began to police the random things that came into his mind, not wanting her to glimpse at anything important. Her smile turned to a frown, her eyes downcast behind dark eyelashes, her face became remorseful.

“I’m truly sorry, I haven’t talked to another person since I came here, it was so long ago I’m not even sure how long it’s been. I didn’t mean to, it just seemed… like you were having trouble organizing your thoughts, I assumed it would be easier on you if I simply understood them before your mind could mess them up again. It was wrong of me to do that without asking, you’re not an enemy in my home.” Her voice was cold and admonishing, as if she were lecturing herself like one of his own childhood instructors had done to him when he’d forgotten himself. He knew better than to give her the benefit of the doubt but he did anyways. Not knowing what to say, he reached over and plucked what looked like a red berry from the plate. She looked up, hopeful, a smile returning to her face.

“These are quite delicious, thank you,” he said after his second one. She picked one up for herself and popped it into her mouth. Grace replied simply, “they’re my favorite this time of year.”

Fearful of his stomach but feeling ravenously hungry, Hux slowly and carefully made his way through the plate she had brought. Every now and then she would pick something small from it for herself. Eventually she determined the tea to be ready and poured it for him into the cup. Taking it from her he took a hesitant sip. It was in fact soothing. The warmth of it seemed to stretch into his aching muscles, calmed his tumultuous stomach, coated his raw throat with a honey-like sweetness. The taste was simple, not overpowering but also not bland like the tea rations his family had used while he grew up on a space station after the Empire’s fall. He made it through most of the pot before he felt as if he could not eat or drink anything more.

The sun had begun to set, the light in the room fading from yellow to orange to red. Somewhere around his second cup Grace had stood up and excused herself to the other room. When she returned she was dressed in evening clothes, a hooded robe made of the same material as the blanket on the bed. She moved the chair back to its place behind the desk and took away the tray, replacing the glass with a new one filled with more water. Before Hux settled in to sleep, she came one last time, looking tired.

“If you need anything, I’m on the other side of this wall,” she pointed to the wall to the left of the doorway. “If you get up try to be loud about it, it’s quiet at night and it’d be alarming to wake up to a shadow walking through my home after all this time, I wouldn’t want to hurt you in a panic. Speaking of which, if you’re getting up in the night, I will assume that what you want is outside. Just go through the back door, it’s the one to the right, and there’s a rope so you don’t get lost. If you can’t get up, well,” she shrugged, pointed at the bucket from earlier that he’d forgotten about, and gave a soft chuckle. It took him a moment to realize what she was referring to, and he hoped that if he had blushed at her comments that it was too dark to tell. He muttered a thanks and she walked back out, leaving the door ajar just enough to hear if he called for her.

Still in pain but getting used to the ache, he did not find it that hard to fall asleep with the quiet chirping of insects in the night and the gentle waves of distant water moved by the wind whistling through the trees. There was no electric or mechanical hum that he was used to on the Finalizer, no sound of boots or beeping of his datapad. Everything he had known for his entire life was the furthest thing from his mind.

* * *

He could still feel the sting in his cheek as he laid on the floor of the space station. His small green eyes looked at the boots beside him as they welled up with tears and heat flooded to the fresh smack that landed him on the floor. Armitage couldn’t even remember what he had done to warrant it, maybe a comment out of turn, but it was just as likely that it was just for deigning to exist.

“If I see you again today, you will wish that you had never been born, boy,” the gruff and harsh voice spat. The boots walked off with authority and purpose, Hux fought the urge to look up at his father. When he knew the man was far away, he got up and ran to his room. There he cried hot tears into his pillow, gripping it until his knuckles turned white. He hated his father, because Brendol hated him and made sure he knew it, but he still desperately hoped that the only family he had would accept him one day. Fearing he’d see his father in their quarters he hid in his room for hours. Eventually, his small stomach and growing body could no longer take two skipped meals, so he tried his best to sneak into the kitchen.

At the table sat his father, large and menacing, green eyes locked on a datapad in one hand, a cup of hot military-ration tea in the other. Armitage froze in the doorway, eyes as large as saucers, his breath held in his lungs long enough that they started to burn. It seemed like in the split second it took for him to beginning running back to his room, hoping to escape his father’s wrath, Brendol’s strong hand gripped his thin arm. Hux had always been thin, unlike his father who seemed to be made of muscle and hate, the fire in his eyes matched by the red of his closely-cut hair. He would not soon forget the pain of what came next as his face smashed into the door jam. He would bear the black eye for days and he worried at his nose, concerned it was broken, until the pain finally receded. What healed quickest was the split in his lip and what never healed was the place in his heart that was reserved for his father. Bruised and feeling broken, he crawled his way back to his room, but not without Brendol’s emotional abuse hurled at his mind on the way. In bed that night, he offered up his first prayer to whatever God or power that was in the universe, a prayer that his father would soon be gone from his life and preferably by his hand.

* * *

A hand was on his arm, pressing it into the bed. Out of instinct and in the haze of freshly waking from a nightmare, his other arm whipped around with a fist to meet who or whatever had woken him. He felt his hand connect with flesh - a soft layer over the contour of bone - and heard before he saw the loud sound of his assailant hitting the wooden night stand. Adrenaline coursing through his veins he bolted upright, pulled his legs towards his torso and cocked his good arm back to strike again. In the grey early light of morning his eyes adjusted to the form of what he had assumed was an attacker attempting to take his life. Instead he saw Grace, sitting up from where she crumpled onto the floor, hand pressed against the gash on her face.

“Are you alright?” He was shocked that it was not his voice that he heard. Her blue eyes stared up at him out of concern. She balled up the end of her sleeve, using it to staunch the bleeding, and got up from the floor.

“Did you read-”

“No, I’m asking you if you are alright. You were yelling. I heard you from the water.” He simply could not believe her words. Here this woman was, cuff staining with her own blood, her blood splattered on her own furniture, unconcerned that her injured guest who was sleeping in her own bed had attempted to kill her in retaliation and instead worried about him. She had been trying to wake him from a nightmare and he instead had cold-cocked her in the face, he could have easily killed her had she contacted with the furniture in just the right way. He had no answer to offer, he was too confused by sleep and the situation. Grace simply nodded and said she’d be back after tending to her wounded face. Hux’s eyes focused instead on the bedside table where red blood began to dry on the edge.

When she was out of the room he finally noticed that other than his savior’s blood, there was a new tray. With shaking hands he reached out; the bread was warm to the touch and soft with a hard outer crust and the tea in the cup was still steaming. There was a small crock with what looked to be a preserve made from the red berries she loved. It tasted fresh and the loose berries and vegetables next to it still had dew on them from where she had picked them that morning. New to the spread were slices of a white cheese and a few strips of what was probably a dried meat. Mind racing he grabbed the teacup and gulped down its contents, hoping the liquid would soothe the pain in his knuckles and the tightness he felt in his chest.

Staring at the specks of leaves at the bottom of his cup, his body was filled with purpose. He was not good at it, but he was determined to offer an apology that Grace surely deserved. Hux jumped to his feet, bare feet feeling the grain of the floor for the first time. He put the cup down and took one step before he wobbled, his weakened legs giving way beneath him despite his will. Hitting the floor, he was able to save his head by landing on his arm. From the other room came the pounding of feet as his host rushed to see what had happened. He had managed to get himself leaning against the wall by the time she had reached him, kneeling down to be eye-level with him. The concern and hurt in her eyes were overpowered by the bruise already turning black and his eyes stared at where a needle dangled from a suture she had started on the her wound. He stared at its pendulous motion, the bizarreness of it drowning out everything else in the room, her voice seemed like it was coming to him from some mountain far away. Without realizing it, she had moved him from the floor to the bed when he didn’t respond. Eventually she scooped the needle up and held it against her cheek beneath her eye and the spell was broken. The sharpness of his eyes pierced into something buried deep in his mind, dredged up fresh by the nightmare like the wreckage of some old ship. Hot tears filled his eyes again like that day when he tried to sneak dinner in the middle of the night, or when Brendol had caught a young Armitage playing with another boy whose father was ‘beneath their station’.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, please don’t-” His voice broke off as his throat began to tighten in a sudden surge of pure fear. Her eyes softened infinitely and her free hand came up to gently caress his face, sadness setting into hers when he flinched at the touch. General Hux thought himself strong, calculating, precise and in control, but here he was afraid of some hermit woman on an unnamed planet living in some primitive home. His body trembled as he held back involuntary sobs, his arms stiff by his sides. He looked away so he could close his eyes tightly, hoping to ward off any new tears. Grace’s thumb traced softly over the bone of his cheek.

“I won’t hurt you Armitage, I forgive you, it was purely an accident. Please don’t blame yourself.” Her voice was careful and full of a warmth he had never heard before. Every voice he had heard was either timid obedience or sharp authority. Still afraid to face her, he kept his eyes shut and, throat raw from emotion, said nothing. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giving them a comforting pressure and her gentle hands rubbing the muscles in his tense back. It took uncounted minutes for his body to relax into her touch but eventually he did embrace her in return and buried his face into the crook of her neck. There he cried until his body had no more tears to give and exhausted himself of all his panic and fear. All the while she hummed like she did the day before, something soothing like the wind blowing through leaves or the crash of waves on a distant beach. He felt ashamed of himself for this outburst, for letting memories of his long-dead father overwhelm him and cause this embarrassment at the hands of this woman. “You’re strong, but truly strong people don’t hide all of those feelings away forever. I’m here and you never have to worry about being weak in front of me.”

He loosened his grip, prompting her to release hers as well. Hux had forgotten about the abandoned stitching on her face, looking away in shame. She whispered an apology, gave his hand a reassuring pat, and walked briskly into the other room, presumably to finish tending to her cut. The well of sadness in him now flushed out, his body felt heavy and his stomach growled in hunger. He began to pick at the breakfast she had brought for him that morning, the tea and bread going from freshly hot to just above room temperature, but he did not seem to care. Everything she brought had tasted like it was made just for him to enjoy. The tea filled the ache in his hands and the tightness in his chest. By the time he was done and trying to once again get up, Grace had swept back into the room and placed a strong hand under his armpit before he had the chance to fall again. Fighting the still-present feeling of fear and shame, he looked into her face. The bruising was underneath a thin mask of cream - most likely some homemade poultice meant to help the swelling and healing - and the stitching was hidden by a strip of beige cloth bandage glued to the skin with some green paste. Her eyes still held concern and a questioning gaze.

“Why don’t we go outside, it is nice out, some sun will do you some good,” she said hopefully. He nodded and so she slowly helped him walk through the house. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else due to days of unuse. As they went from the room to the next he realized there was more to the simple cottage than he thought; the bedroom led into a spacious living room and from there he could see into a primitive kitchen, two doors he assumed led outside, and another large room he saw through an open doorway. The living room had a cot-like bench where he could see she had been sleeping while he occupied her bed. There were two more bookcases, holding a mix of tomes and scrolls, and several shelves displaying artifacts of unknown importance. Tapestries hung from the walls in varying degrees of detail and subject matter, there were a few plaques made from unknown animal horns, figures made of skeletons, and a rather large animal skull displayed on a pedestal in one corner of the room. In a rack above the stone fireplace was something metallic, slender, and cylindrical with curious protrusions from one end. She had caught him staring at this piece longer than the lingering glance he gave her other decor. “Don’t worry, I haven’t used that since I had to kill that ugly fucker with the huge skull.”

“It’s a lightsaber,” he said in a moment of clarity; it was not a question. When she had admitted to reading his mind the assumption had crept into the back of his mind but was ultimately buried. Then at some point he began to wonder how a woman could make a life for herself on an uninhabited planet with seemingly no one to help. With this morning’s events he questioned how someone could be so soft, caring, and forgiving while still seeming sharp and strong. Under her loose clothes he could feel the definition of muscle has he held her in the embrace and now the strength she used to keep him from falling under his own weight. His mind screamed, as if in glowing, bold red letters: this woman is a Jedi.

“Well not technically,” she said, as if in response to his thoughts. Wide-eyed he turned to her, his lips pale as they pulled back across his teeth. She suddenly looked ashamed. “I’m sorry, it was just such a loud thought.”

He accepted it and said he was ready to continue their trek. It took maybe an hour for her to bring him to a beautiful spot by what appeared to be a very large lake. There she had build a bench from stone and wood, beside it was a basket she had apparently abandoned that morning. As he sat down, Hux looked to see that they were some kind of nut and she had been working to crack them. Grace sat beside him and stared out across the water, blue and with a few ripples where the breeze curled across it. She seemed peaceful and relieved, her shoulders relaxed and she took in a deep breath.

“If you’re not a Jedi, then what are you?” He asked, regaining his former confidence. It felt like a lifetime ago that he was walking across the bridge of the Finalizer, forever since he was agonizing over the completion of Starkiller Base. The General suddenly wondered if it would ever be finished now that he, its designer, wasn’t there to oversee its construction. As if in response, he was reminded of the Jedi’s kindness and felt guilt that he even thought of the super weapon. He briefly wondered if she was even so compassionate that she would forgive him for that transgression against the galaxy, but before his thoughts could race to darker places he heard her speak.

“Well, I was supposed to be. I was going to Luke Skywalker’s school when one of his apprentices killed all the others. I heard it was his nephew, which explains how he abandoned the school and ran away to some unknown place, never to be heard of again. So I can’t really be a Jedi, because I haven’t been taught to be a Jedi.” She gave him a wink and a smile before staring back out over the water. “Well I had lost my parents by then and my brother was taking me to the school, hoping I’d learn how to be good at what Jedi do and earn us some money or at least a place to stay. I was maybe ten years old at the time, I was kind of old to start Jedi training but my parents had fought about if they should send me and after they were gone we figured it was worth a shot: what else were we going to do?

"Well we got there, learned the school was closed forever, and had no money to go anywhere else. So we stayed and my brother, being old enough, worked any way he could to get money. He wanted to own his own ship. The city had a high moral code about it, being the capital and all, and so it was hard for me to find any way to get money, so I set about finding a way for my brother and me to live off of what little he made. In between working miracles of lodging and meals, I visited the museums the city had to offer, and one had technology and images of times so ancient it seemed like some tall tale. Of course, as a resourceful child, I used the things I learned from those displays to improve our living situation and from some I learned the art of battle. To thank me for my hard work, my brother started giving me some of his earnings, to use for myself of course. Instead of using it for food like I should have, I went digging through the random markets at the outskirts of town or in the scrap heaps. As luck would find it, I found an old lightsaber in a box this old lady was trying to get rid of. I paid 50 credits for it, it was all I had to my name and she had no idea what it was.

"Through trial and error I took it apart and put it together again. It refused to work in the least, the crystal had been broken, rendering it useless. While my brother was working I cried for hours, thinking I had wasted his hard earned credits on a useless piece of metal. Sensing my sadness, the next time he gave me a cut of his profits, he gave me more than the time before, claiming he had made extra that day but I knew he was lying. To soothe my sadness I returned to combing through people’s junk in the hopes that I’d find something actually useful. I would find old books for a few credits, for my brother’s birthday I had bought him a model ship and said one day we’d have a real one; he cried. I was maybe thirteen when I found a strange pendant made of crystal. Turned out it was kyber. I had it for a few weeks before I realized what it was, popped it into my lightsaber and it lit up; the sound caused my brother to jump up from deep sleep. I went from training with a stick to swinging around a light saber, hoping no one would see. Someone did see, and in my sleep I was kidnapped by slavers.

"I didn’t know until after, because slavers have these awful things that keep you from being aware, but eventually my brother had bought me back with all of his savings- everything meant to buy a ship and get away to some other planet or be traders. I was so angry I didn’t know what came over me. It was as if someone had put one of those collars back on me, but in my rage I had gone back to those slavers and cut through them until they begged for mercy and asked what I wanted. I got back my brother’s money and more, enough to purchase a good vessel. When I got back to where we lived my brother had worked himself into a panic again and was ready to come look for me. He looked at me like he’d seen a monster, I was covered in blood and blaster burns. I gave him the money and I said 'I need to go far away from anyone.’ He brought me here, hugged me goodbye, left me with the few things I had gathered, and I never heard from him again. I must have been fifteen at the time. It’s been many years.”

Hux stared at her in awe. During the tale she had taken back up her forgotten task of cracking the nuts and she talked with such calmness it was as if she were explaining how to cook a stew. The emotion of the story rolled out from her in little waves and he felt her fondness for her brother, the shame of killing those men, and her melancholy at her isolation. After processing it, he spoke up. “They deserved it, though. They were slavers. You have an amazing gift and power, you can’t stay here wasting it.”

She turned and glared at him, anger bubbling to the surface. “They deserved it? And I suppose you would deserve it too, ordering villages burned and children taken from their families, forced to be your power?”

He knew she had intruded into his head to find something to say in her anger, and since it was a thing he should be punished for, he silently forgave her for letting herself into his mind without permission. Hux knew she still had a hold on his thoughts when her anger gave way to her own shame and she looked away to the ground. Since she already knew his forgiveness, instead he said, “I shouldn’t assume what it’s like to be someone like you. You must make decisions so foreign to me I would never have thought of them my whole life. And if you hadn’t ended up here, I would be dead.”

Moments passed in silence as they stared out over the water and at the ground by their feet, neither knowing what to say anymore. The sun was high in the sky when she suggested they go back inside to have something to eat. Hux felt stronger than he did the first time, but still needed her help as they walked back to the cottage. He remarked on the stability of its structure and how much work she must have put into it. Grace simply thanked him, owing it to the many years she’d been living there. This time he noticed the few animals she kept near her home and the garden she tended. From this direction he saw the glint of the stream where she pulled her water and he could see a family of deer-like animals eating grass between the trees. The sun warm, the breeze strong enough to cool him, air fresh and sky so blue, the stress of the day washed away like dirt from his hand. The furthest thought from his mind was Starkiller and his command.


	2. Chapter 2

Having left him to his own devices so she could tend to her chores, Hux took to carefully walking around the home to look at everything she had managed to collect. A surprising amount of it was not made on another planet; there were books that she had bought as a child, of course the lightsaber, the tea set, a cast iron pot and skillet she used with a wood fire, some medical supplies, a knife, and some of her clothes. In the side room he saw where she did most of her work on making whatever it is she needed, namely a large handmade loom in the corner, a blanket waiting to be finished. There was wood being worked and in one corner was stored what appeared to be where she made the paper she wrote on. Flipping through her library he’d found some diaries she had written. With his quick mind he calculated that she had spent thirteen years, almost half her life, on the planet. At first he tried to quell his curiosity in order to protect her privacy, but what she wrote had been so impersonal that it felt like reading mission reports in his office. She remarked on each of her brother’s birthdays but never on her own, some years she would mention on of her parents’. There were her encounters with wildlife, logs of her figuring out how to make paper or scribblings of trying to find the perfect way to build her home. They offered almost no insight into her as a person. The only thing that stood out were long periods unwritten, only to be started again and beginning with the question 'why am I still alive?’ It gave him a small pain in his heart, reminding him of his time as a child when the abuse became too much and he wished for death to come for him in his sleep. When he found the most recent entry, one talking about him, he felt better realizing that it had been many years since her mind had gone dark and left her with feelings of not wanting to get through another night.

As the sun set she came back inside, covered in dirt and sweat. He had been sitting on her makeshift cot, reading one of the ancient books about some long lost art of sword fighting. She put away the food she had collected and went back outside before he noticed and could say anything. He had been meaning to ask her if they could start over and forget all the animosity that had come up in the short time they’d known each other. Getting up, the General limped his way to the back door, hoping she hadn’t gone too far in order to save him the effort of moving so slowly to catch up.

She had not gone too far, in fact she had been quite nearby. Thinking he would spare himself the pain and trouble of coming outside for anything, she had stripped her soiled clothes and was dumping water from a trough over her head with a bucket, her back turned to him. Hux had frozen in the doorway, hand gripping the frame, as she cleaned the clothes and hung them on s nearby line. Between her and him was a stack of clean clothes sitting on a small bench, and as she turned to grab a towel, their eyes locked. A flush rose to her cheeks and neck but she did not move to cover herself. In that moment he realized that not once since he’d been awake had he felt unclean and in need of a bath, which only meant that she must have bathed him while he was in his deep sleep from the shuttle’s crash. He therefore assumed that she didn’t divert his gaze as an offer of fairness; she had presumably seen parts of him in a state of undress without his permission, so it was only right that he return the favor. His assumption about her was true; she was more than just toned from years of manual labor and her shoulders broad to help, but her figure was feminine with wide hips, shapely legs, and breasts that looked ample and were beautiful despite being asymmetrical in appearance. He eventually composed himself and walked forward. Her eyes grew wide but she did not move back or cover herself with her hands, but to her surprise he reached down, picked up one of the towels, and handed it to her. She muttered a shy thanks and he turned to go back inside.

“Wait!” She shouted, even though he was mere feet from her. It was so loud, as if she were trying to reach him from across the lake , that it startled him. Hux tentatively faced her and was relieved that she had wrapped the towel around herself. He stared directly into her eyes to avoid tracing the curve of her breast or waist or staring at the bicep straining as she gripped the towel with white knuckles. She eventually found her voice. “I haven’t washed your clothes in a few days, I could now… if you’d like. But I don’t know if I have anything that would fit you while you wait.”

He knew it was a thinly veiled ploy to get him to undress willingly after she’d felt so embarrassed, but for once, Hux did not mind walking into a trap. He began to tug at the hem of his uniform undershirt as he said, “I suppose it would be rude to turn down such a gracious offer.”

He knew she was watching with rapt attention, it excited him to be under such careful gaze. To ensure he kept it, he removed his clothes slowly and with a sexually charged finesse. With his shirt off, he stared directly into her wavering blue eyes as he undid the fly of his uniform slacks and pulled them down his long legs. She watched his every move and got redder as more skin was revealed. He smirked, thinking he’d never see a would-have-been Jedi be scandalized. The gesture seemed to only fuel her embarrassment more as she bit her lip and let out the faintest of whimpers. Tossing the trousers aside, he walked towards her, in the slow confidence he might have used on the Finalizer, just as sure in nothing but his boxers as he would have been in his jacket and great coat, which were currently hanging up inside on a makeshift hanger. She was frozen in place as he stopped a mere foot in front of her. In this moment, standing at his full height, he noticed that she was quite tall for a woman, maybe only a few inches shorter than him, but he still could look down into her eyes.

He didn’t know what came over him, but he reached out and placed his hand over the one gripping her towel. She looked down at his hand and let out a sharp breath, as if a beautiful butterfly had chosen to land on her to show off its wings. Slowly he took it from her and once she had let go, he let it drop to the ground. The General still looked at her with piercing green eyes as he, as gracefully as he could, removed his shorts. In her eyes he could tell she was fighting the urge to look down, possibly making it so her bottom peripheral vision could make out some image. She was as red as his hair and her jaw was clenched so tight it could have been in danger of cracking. For the first time since he could remember, a genuine smile rose to his lips and turned into a grin as watching this obviously strong young woman turn into a nervous statue. He did not think it possible but it was as if all the blood in her body rushed to her face at the sight of his happiness that she looked down towards the grown to avoid his gaze. What she forgot was that he was now wearing no more than she was and her hands flew to her face to cover her eyes and a strained cry found its way through her pursed lips. He laughed, light and golden, and reached down for the discarded towel, wrapping around his slim waist.

“I didn’t think you’d be so distraught, you’d bathed me while I was knocked out, right? I don’t feel like I’ve gone a week without a shower.” Even covered up, she would not remove her hands from her face.

“I did it without looking, out of respect!” She cried behind her hands. The admission took him off guard. Then why had she let him stand and stare? It must have been a loud thought or, in her distress, she mistakenly read the thought. “Because I didn’t know what else to do!”

Hux chastised himself, this hadn’t turned out as fair as he would have liked. He also hadn’t expected a grown woman to act such a way to seeing a man naked, but he reminded himself that she’d been here for thirteen years and had probably forgotten that experience. But then a thought turned in his mind, that she had come to this planet at fifteen, that neither her story nor her journals ever mentioned anyone personal besides her brother and family. There was no love she missed, no crush. Her life, as he knew it, was all about working to buy a vessel and then was the solitude of living on this planet. It was a perfectly reasonable assumption that she had never seen a man without clothes, nevertheless been in a sexual situation, even if it was in jest. He quickly felt ashamed, grabbed her quivering shoulders and brought his face close to hers so that she would look him in the eye and see his genuine plea for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think this would be the first time for you, I thought it would just be a bit of fun.”

At first she peeked up between fingers and seeing his begging eyes she lowered her hands. She was still flush but clarity seemed to return to her. From his eyes she looked up to the disheveled mess of normally perfectly slicked copper hair, down the curves of his cheekbones, the line of his thin nose, and finally down to his lips that were pressed together just a little too tight. She reached up one tentative hand and placed it on his collarbone, gently feeling the pulse at the base of his neck. The other came up and felt the skin of his chest. Before he could say anything, he felt something at the back of his mind, it almost sounded like her voice. “Can I?” it asked, so innocent but brave. Without words he replied “you may” and her rosy lips crashed into his haphazardly. The hand on his neck slipped up into his hair and the one on his chest moved to grip his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, using his hand to press the small of her back and push her towards his body for stability. The other reached up to push back her still-wet hair from her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb like she had done to him before.

It had been forever since he’d been intimate with anyone, he had probably still been in his early twenties or even in his teens, but it was obvious that she was working on instinct and not experience. She didn’t know what to do with her mouth but she knew it felt good to press them against his. Her hand gripped the hair at his nape just a little too hard but he found it added to the excitement to know how passionate she was becoming. When she felt his body harden and felt her own be pulled into his embrace she forgot the kiss and let out a surprised and deep moan. His mind was racing, unsure of how to proceed; they barely knew one another but the short time they had together had felt like eons, but her inexperience scared him. He didn’t want to ruin this special moment for her - for them - but he knew he wanted her, he wanted to give back the comfort and compassion she had given him that morning when his mind tortured him with dreams of his father. Instead now there was another voice in his head: 'please, Armitage, please, this is what I want, if you’ll have me.’ He wanted to pick her up and swoop her back into the house built by her two strong hands, supported through the years by her sharp mind, laid out precisely with the warmth of her creativity and heart. The Force knew he wanted to hear her voice in his head more, drowning out all the terrible thoughts that crept into his mind every moment it was left alone.

Before he could even try to support her weight on his weakened legs, he knew it would end in disaster. Even though he knew she was there peaking into his thoughts, he was surprised when he was the one whose feet left the dirt. Quickly and confidently she had grabbed him about the waist and hoisted him off his feet, it surprised him how strong she really was as he had to have weighed more than her. For comfort he wrapped his legs around her waist and craned down to give her another deep kiss as she navigated them through the doorway. Despite her strength she must have been weakened by the shaking their passion had caused and her knees gave way by the time they’d reached the pile of furs that served as a rug in the middle of the living room floor. Hux detangled himself from her and knelt with her in the soft hides, staring into her eyes as he took her face in between his hands. He kissed her once more as he gently guided her to the floor; he could feel her moan in the back her throat and swore he heard it in his head. As he began kissing and carefully biting down her neck, paying attention to her shoulder and collarbone, one hand moved from her face and traced a line to the curve of her breast. He felt the soft warmth in his long slender hand as he brushed lightly over a nipple already standing out for attention. She gasped sharply, not knowing what to expect, and ground her hips briefly into his and rubbing his cock against her warm body.

Hux mustered all the strength he could to not just take her to release his frustration, even if she seemed so similarly in need. Instead he replaced that hand at her breast with he mouth, kissing over the soft pale skin and licking tentatively with his cool wet tongue. The back of his mind lit up with pleasure as she let out a moan that he was thankful there was no one but him to hear. His hand, relieved of its previous task, traced a line down her heaving stomach and down one leg. Tight-lipped moans of confused approval was his partner’s only viable means of communication coupled with whatever animalistic message she could send out through the Force. He brought his face back up to hers, once again taking her lips with his as he parted her with his finger. She went from grabbing at their makeshift bad to gripping his shoulders tightly, almost digging her nails into his skin. It took him a few moments to realize she was trying to push him away and in a panic he back his face away from hers and removed his hand from her body, looking at her in worry. But instead of a plea to stop, instead she fought for breath in between moans and eventually he heard her, desperate and hot, 'Don’t stop, you’re perfect, I need you, please Armitage.’

He rejoined their faces in a flurry of heated kisses, careful to give intervals where she could breathe and avoid being pushed away. The fingers remained pressed into his shoulders but he ignored any pain they gave. He instead focused on his important task. Every stroke, no matter how light, to her wet skin offered a shudder of delight and a possible moan. Slowly he made his way to slip one delicate finger into her and every movement gave her pleasure. Her body felt so ready but he did not want to ruin the moment if he moved too soon, so he worked those warm soft walls of her insides and after what felt like eternity he slipped a second one beside it. After a while she knew she was ready but he was ashamed to admit he was scared. He was doing everything he could to talk down his own excitement, the hour they spent in each other’s arms were so passionate and pleasurable he was surprised he wasn’t already spent. The General wanted her pleasure to be first and he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t get hurt.

Her hands found his face again, he opened his eyes to see hers, hooded and hazy, staring back at him. Without words he knew what she was thinking, it was almost as if he too could sit in the back of her mind. She wanted him so badly and she was ready when he was. So moved his hips to between her legs, staring into her eyes as softly as he could. Hard kisses were replaced with a deep but soft one as one hand held her cheek and then other helped guide himself into her. In an attempt to line his cock up, it rubbed against her clitoris, swollen with blood and slick. It elicited another deep moan that got lost in his mouth, but it was nothing compared to the scream of absolute pleasure that came after he finally entered her. Her fingers dug deep into his back, her thighs squeezing his hips, her breath ragged. Slowly he moved back and forth, feeling her clench around him, and he heard her, in her real voice, the voice that had asked if he was alright, “Armitage Hux, this is the best I have ever felt in my entire life.”

His face broke into a prideful grin that he hid in the crook of her neck as he snaked his arms underneath her and pumped at an increasing pace. Every kiss and every moan encouraged him and washed away the anxiety he felt, he knew that she was fully enjoying this passionate thing they shared. As with everything, it was coming to an end. Her body began to involuntarily quiver, her breathing erratic, unable to keep her eyes open or form a coherent sentence let alone a single word. Hux began to do everything he could to push her over the edge and it did not take much. Her muscles wrapped around him like a firm handshake, his name from her lips could have rattled the roof down around them, it was like a star destroyer had exploded in the back of his mind. Even though he had been fighting off his own pleasure, all of these sensations pushed him over the edge and he rode out his orgasm in her and groaned in her ear deep and throaty.

He tried his best not to collapse all of his weight onto her, but he did not have the strength to move. She instead pulled him down beside her, laying him on his back to feel soft fur tickle his sweat-sheened skin. Lying her head on his chest and tracing random patterns on it with her hand, he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her close. A thought finally gleaned through the haze of post-coitus bliss and he chuckled. She looked up at him and he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone moan so loud.”

Of course, without the abandon of passionate love, her face turned red with embarrassment and she looked away. It only caused him to laugh more and tug her tighter. “You don’t have much competition, but I will tell you, you won by a landslide.”

The blood slowly drained from her face but she didn’t say anything. Wanting her to enjoy her afterglow however she pleased, he settled into what he thought was a comfortable silence, one hand tracing a circle on her lower back, the other lightly brushing her hand, his eyes lightly shut. It seemed to stretch on forever and he had expected her to say something by now. When he opened his eyes and looked down to her, she had a far-off, sadness-tinged look on her face. He shook her shoulders to get her attention. When she didn’t look up, his brows furrowed and he asked, “did I do something wrong? Please don’t tell me you regret this.”

“Were you like this with them?” She said, not coldly, but the gently earthy warmth of her voice was filled with a hollow tone, as if it was some other part of her talking for itself. He didn’t understand, “them?”

“Whoever else you’ve done this with.” His misunderstanding had seemed to make her more distant, receding into some shell she kept to bury whatever she was feeling. He realized now that she felt insecure knowing he’d been with others and she was not used dealing with a partner’s history. He tilted her head gently to look at him. Years of carefully tailored emotionless tone was torn down bit by bit so he could give her the most honest voice he had forgotten he had.

“What I did with anyone else was nothing compared to what I’ve done with you. I had no passion with them, no connection, I didn’t care about how they felt because I was using them to relieve myself of frustration. I never kissed them, I didn’t touch them like I touched you, I didn’t let them hear me moan in pleasure and I certainly didn’t let them call me anything but 'General’ and they didn’t seem me like this. This was special, just for you, it’s something we did together and nothing has, or maybe ever will, compare.”

She looked deep at him, so deep he noticed that her eyes were not only blue, but there was a brown starburst around her pupils, giving the impression of two small eclipses. The brown faded to green and then to blue, where it deepened as it went out. The beauty of it marveled him. He was broken by the trance when he saw her mouth move and he heard her. “I want to say I love you but I know that’s foolish.”

It was rather foolish, they had only really met yesterday. It was foolish that this even happened in the first place. It was undeniable that the magnetism they had was unique and powerful, but Hux still denied his own little voice in his mind telling him that he loved her. He wanted to say it so many times while he was inside her, it was all he could think about, but he had stopped so that if it was wrong he wouldn’t give her false hope. Even after the high of passionate sex, it still sat hard in his chest, the word love. He wanted to offer some comforting words, to show he hadn’t just used her in a moment of weakness or was masterfully lying this entire time, but he was interrupted when her lips placed a gentle but firm kiss to his. “I understand.”

“You know, I think I’ve come to like having you in my head, saves me the trouble of finding the correct words,” he replied, a small smirk curling one side of his mouth. It was met with her healing smile. “You have a handsome voice, I’d hate to never hear it again. I’ll make sure you still have to talk to me sometimes.”

He laughed as she detangled herself from him and got to her feet. She was unsteady at first but much better off than him. He felt as if he’d lost all of the day’s progress towards regaining the strength in his legs. Instead of helping him up, Grace handed him the blanket from her cot. “I’ll make us some food, just lie down until you’re ready to get up.”

He made good on his promise to regain his strength, watching her throw on the robe she slept in and shuffling of into the kitchen to throw something together. She quickly sautéed her vegetables after cooking what appeared to be pieces of a small bird. With the light of the sun fading from the windows, Hux made his way into the light of her fire and sat with her in its warmth to share their meal. He felt like a young boy, stealing glances at her face when she wasn’t looking, finding reasons to touch some part of her, eventually snaking his fingers between hers when they were done eating. If he’d done this as a child his father certainly would have had much worse than strong slap or slamming him into the wall for punishment. Not wanting his thoughts to be poisoned in this gentle moment, he instead tried to imagine how his mother would have reacted. He of course never knew her and his father’s real wife was never around him, so it was an exercise he returned to when he needed some small glimpse of happiness.

“She would have loved you. She would have done anything to make you happy. I like to think she’d like me, there probably aren’t a lot of women like me where you’re from.” Her voice jarred him out of his reverie, Hux stared at her, lips slightly parted in confusion. She offered a gentle smile. “She’s with you, enough for me to know she loves you. She watches over you.”

Hux didn’t quite know what to say. Instead he looked pensively into the crackling fire. Grace rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand, considering whether she should continue. Somehow her anxiety found its way into his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s about your mother.” She shifted in discomfort next to him, but she didn’t move away or release his hand. She too stared into the fire as if it had answers for her. “What about my mother? She’s been dead since I was born.”

“Well, yes, I know that.”

“How could you know that, I never said anything… I guess you could have dug for that information. I wouldn’t fault you fo-”

“I knew her before I knew you.”

This genuinely confused him. He was older than her by a few years by his calculations, even if she was older she would have had to be much older to have known his mother.

“Well, that is to say, what is left of her in the Force met me before you. She came to me. To let me know that you’d be crashing here and that I would need to help you. But she didn’t tell me we’d have something special. I just knew I needed to save you.”

He had no words. He relied on the jumbled stream of thoughts to hopefully clue her into whatever question was most important. The question didn’t seem to matter, she offered up her own information. “The bog where you crashed is miles away. If I had started from here when I heard the impact, you would have been buried under the mud. But I knew when you’d be coming, give or take a few minutes, and I knew where, so I waited nearby. I watched as the burning hull turned from a shooting star into a metal rock hurtling towards me. Actually, you were late, by about an hour, I almost went home. I’m glad I hadn’t. And I’m glad she spoke to me. Not all spirits are kind.”

There was no doubt, then, that his mother had loved him from beyond the dust she was turned into if she made sure he would not have died on this nameless rock. He was in awe, that something that had felt like a childhood dream was true. Hux didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stop tears from forming in his eyes and with every blink they were pushed out to roll down his cheeks. There was no explanation, it felt as if a great darkness had been hoisted just a little bit off his soul, giving it not enough room to escape but a reprieve from its lifetime burden. He felt her hand brush his cheek and then go back and forth along his back. Everything just wanted to come out at once.

“I’ve done horrible things.” He sobbed. She made to speak but he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “I don’t even know why. My father loved the Order, he was everything I hated as a child so I should have hated the First Order. I should’ve joined the Resistance, so I could watch my father’s ship burn up in the sun. Instead I ordered my head of guard to kill him in secret, like some corrupt planet official making docking fees disappear. I’ve killed people, I’ve had so many more killed. I’ve ordered executions, I ran a program to steal children and raise them to be soldiers, for fuck’s sake!”

He slammed his fist into the hardwood floor, so loud it caused his companion to scoot back in fear. He knew it and it upset him, leaving him to hide his face in his hands. “It’s all wrong now that I’m not a part of it. I hope what made me General is never finished with me gone. It’s a horrible things, it will kill billions. I already have so much blood on my hands, at least I won’t have more for making the order. I wish the thought had never come to me!”

At some point she had pulled him into and embrace and rested her head on his arched back. She listened, believing that what he needed was space to get everything out. A thought began to turn in her head, but she didn’t fully trust it. Instead, she pulled him to his feet, urging him to go to bed. She led him with expert knowledge of her home into the room and left him on the bed. In the warmth of the fire Hux had forgotten to reclaim clothes to wear and shivered and the dark air. Grace made a noise of realization and began rummaging in the old box at the foot of the bed. Out of it she produced what in the dim light appeared to be a larger version of the robe she herself wore.

“Here you go! This one is the biggest, I use it for winter when I put a bunch of clothes on underneath.” She helped him get it over his head and it was surprisingly loose. Fluffing his pillow she big him a good night, but his hand caught her wrist, keeping her from leaving. “Stay with me.”

She looked at him curiously but she didn’t need to ask if he was sure. His voice, distant but certainly his, was heard saying, ‘please.’ With a smile she told him to wait for her to put out the fire and retrieve her own pillow from the living room. She climbed under the blanket on the opposite side of the bed and peered at him in the darkness. He smiled and she kissed his lips, telling him to get to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

To Hux’s surprise he had no trouble falling asleep and found most of his sleep untroubled. When he would awake, he would turn to his left and wait for Grace’s form to come into view. But when he awoke at last, she wasn’t there, her robe cast off across the back of her chair. He blamed her nature of waking with the sun and his body’s desire to heal for missing her getting up. On the desk was the tray, meticulously laid out with fresh breakfast. In a wide, low rock cut into a bowl floated a beautiful freshly picked flower, its white thin petals open, revealing its yolk-yellow center. He made it spin with the twist of his fingers and smiled to himself. When he was better, he would have to find some way to return the favor of her thoughtfulness. In the wake of his troubled time before they slept he felt light, if he had been on the Finalizer and in this mood he would have said he did not feel like himself. Instead now he felt as if the man he was before this planet was not truly himself, like it was all some scheme to protect himself. He bit into the bread, day-old but toasted and softened with what looked like fresh butter.

While he finished his meal he looked around for where he’d seen his uniform hanging, but it was nowhere to be found, not even his socks and boots. Finding his legs better off once again he opened the back door, hoping his clothes from yesterday had been cleaned and dried, but to his chagrin they were also nowhere to be seen. On the line were Grace’s discarded outfit, but no sign of her. Confused, he wrapped the loose robe closer to himself and started off in the direction of the lake. As he climbed the hill’s peak he looked down to the short to notice a figure cloaked in black, coat tails billowing in the breeze as the wearer slashed and flourished some equally dark bar at a rather beat-up looking dummy. He saw her dark-gold hair catch the sunlight, the faint glimpse of the stripes of rank on the sleeves, the polish of his boots and eventually the timber of her voice. Hux felt curious and carefully made his way down the hill in bare feet.

He’d already known she was wearing his uniform, slightly too big to be officially tailored but offered no disadvantage and did not look childishly big on her tall figure and muscular frame. What stood out to him the most about it was that she wore the coat on her shoulders like a cape, letting the arms hang loose and catch the breeze. What else was that he saw no First Order insignia where he knew there should be. He still could not quite make out what it was she was doing and so pressed on.

Whether or not she was too caught up in her business to notice him approach he didn’t know, but when she didn’t pause he simply said her name insistently. She startled, which made Hux laugh and grin, a gesture she happily returned. With her turned fully to him he could finally see what it was in her hand, a lightsaber, its blade as black as the material of his uniform. It hummed in the way he had heard Kylo Ren’s hum. As he got closer she retracted it and he stared at how she gripped it. What were strange protrusions appeared to be hand guards, but unlike Ren’s cross guard, it was not part of the light-blade itself. He assumed that it was made of the rare substance known to be resistant to lightsabers, it was assumed to be no longer in use. As she handled it it between her two hands, waiting for him to reach her, he noticed that it was longer than Ren’s had been, perhaps made as a two-handed weapon for someone of much bigger build than Grace, but she handled it as if it weighed no more than a stick.

“Sorry, I thought I’d have some fun while you woke up,” she offered, smile flashing and laughter in her voice. The sound reminded him of delicate bells. Hux silently scolded himself for thinking that, if tailored just right, she would have a deadly and erotic beauty in a uniform like his own. He was acutely aware that he was wearing nothing more than her winter robe, his hair hadn’t seen a comb in days, and he hadn’t actually bathed himself yesterday when she had suggested it. She laughed again and approached with a confident stride that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. If she had his signature sneer instead of a toothy grin, he could have seen her standing on the bridge of the Finalizer. There she’d stand, expertly ordering her fleet through combat with the Resistance. They would lose maybe a few ships and a handful of fighters but the battle would be theirs. A lieutenant would make a thoughtless error and would be swiftly and expertly tongue-lashed in front of all the bridge officers. They’d cower in fear, turn their gaze a way until a harsh 'Officer!’ would snap them to attention.

He saw it in her, pure and raw power. But she was not pretending to be that person on the bridge, his female counterpart. She was not Kylo Ren storming off to kill soldiers without a second thought or using the Force and his mask to intimidate. Hux had noticed that the insignia had been pinned to the poor abused dummy, burnt holes and slashes in precise patterns consistent with common humanoid anatomy. In that moment what made her intimidating was not his uniform or the lightsaber. It was not a sneer or piercing look, a carefully toned word or flick of her deadly wrist. It was those precise holes, it was how she’d turned a devil’s uniform into her own, how she knew exactly how a person of power walks without having ever known it. That was not entirely true, she had power, not just in physical strength or the Force, but over him. With that power he was bound to her, he could not look away and his ears began to ignore the songs of birds and lapping of the water on the shore as he waited with baited breath to hear what order she gave him.

He had felt a similar sensation before. First when he had spoken to the Supreme Leader. Even through the hologram he could feel the power of the Force invade the room he was in, he knew immediately that Snoke was deadly and not to be disobeyed. The second time was when he’d been introduce to Kylo Ren and he’d felt the raw power anger offered wash over him and it had taken all of his strength and years of mental training to not collapse under the weight every time they’d met. But the power in front of him felt different; she was deadly but she was not angry, she did not desire power, she would not kill so carelessly, she admonished recklessness. She was sharp, she was precise, she was deadly, and he was hers. He almost believed that, if face to face, his lady champion could defeat Snoke or Kylo Ren, and possibly even have the strength left for a session of passionate love and making a dinner they’d enjoy around a warm fire or at the base of some ancient tree that she would claim was full of hidden wisdom.

Grace had stepped her way closer to him as he had lost himself in thought. He knew that she’d probably been listening in, but she offered no approval or denial of his rampant thoughts. Instead she placed a kiss on his cheek and said, “I’m surprised you didn’t attract every lady on your ship, General Hux, I feel like I could charm the dresses off a hundred women in this uniform. I’m looking forward to seeing you in it sometime.”

“Wait, are you wearing my pants underneath that? I didn’t see them at the house.”

“Don’t be silly. I mean, I did try, but they wouldn’t fit. They’re mixed up in my clothes.” She laughed, the gentle sound clashing with an outfit Hux had come to associate with pig-head hate and genocide. He wondered if he’d ever wear it again, even if Grace asked. She did have a way of making it seem far removed from the black interior of his ship and his station. Maybe in time it would just be another set of clothing and not a uniform; perhaps in winter he’d wrap that coat around his love’s shoulders to keep her warm. “You just said you loved me, I think taking a break from General-ing is making you soft.”

Hux was taken aback but he brushed it off with a smile. “Maybe it is. But now you’re General, so my love is for your charisma and military wit.” She laughed, a sound he hoped to hear until the day he died. She gave a a rough approximation of a salute, which he returned with rigid practice. “I quite like that! So snappy of you. If you’re no longer General, then what should I call you?”

For a moment he considered if he assumption into her character was wrong, did she actually want to lord this power over him, fake as it was? Before he could think further, something heavy was pushed into his hands. Looking down, he stared at and rolled in his hands her lightsaber. Considering the ease with which she moved it, it was surprisingly heavy but well-balanced. What was probably once rusty from decades or centuries of no use was polished to a mirror finish, every surface to every seem. It looked as if it had just been made. “A soldier does the fighting, even when a General is skilled, right?”

“Yes, that is true. It’s been a while since I was the one doing the actual fighting. I’d never used anything like this before…” he kept his finger far away from the black button he assumed was its switch, too afraid to touch it and have it injure either of them. She threw forward her hand to imitate him, and the flick of her thumb encouraged him to power it. Filled with nervous energy he mirrored her and held his breath as he turned it on. It offered Resistance like the kickback of a blaster and the sound rang in his ears. He could not only hear the familiar hum but feel it vibrate in the handle but into his hand and up his arm. The black light was strange to look at, both beautiful and horrifying. Holding it made him feel powerful but he was unexplainably afraid. He recalled the destruction Ren had caused with even just a small movement.

“If you want, just have some fun with my old friend. Just be careful to not hurt yourself.” She pointed at the dumb and went to go sit on the bench they’d shared the day before so she could watch. Hux could hardly believe she would trust him with such a weapon. But he was curious what it felt like, would he pretend to be her, idly practicing the deadly art she’d gleaned from ancient books, just as she’d pretended to be him as a general?

Half the day found him becoming more and more serious about replicating Grace’s fluid and effortless movements from before. Occasionally she would shout advice, such as where to place his feet or to adjust his grip, from her perch on the bench. With careful coordination she would stand with him and guide him slowly through the movements. Hux had always considered himself a quick and accurate learner, having served as a tactical sniper briefly in the ranks, but this was the most difficult task he’d undertaken. He was determined that with one carefully placed strike he would turn one of his old insignia to dust. Several times Grace had asked him to lunch with her but he refused, he would not stop until he’d succeeded; he knew he was close. He stopped to catch his breath, and he reached into his memory to recall the saber’s owner and how she’d moved as he watched. While he was determined that he would succeed, he admitted that taking care of himself was more important than training a weapon that would not be his to use. He didn’t know what came over him, but this time he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before his last attempt.

“You did it! I knew you could.” He heard his General cheer as she ran to him. Staring at the target, Hux looked dumbfounded as it registered that where there had been three patches, only two remained. He turned off the lightsaber before he was drowned in a sea of kisses. Every now and again his cap would bob with her head and tap his face, but he did not care. She was proud of his arbitrary self-imposed mission and he in turn felt proud of himself. Would his officers had felt like this if he’d bothered to acknowledge their achievements?

Sweaty and tired he was ready to head back. As a joke she had thrown the great coat over his shoulders, acting something she’d called 'chivalrous’, some ancient practice how knights should conduct themselves. It’s probably been a long time since anyone had used that word, or maybe Hux had just never heard of someone use it. She went on to explain how she learned to fight from books about knights and the sword-toting soldiers of what seemed like fairy tale but she insisted had happened in the distant past. Grace, done with her fun calling herself the General, began peeling of his uniform carefully to give back. He watched with rapt attention and when she’d noticed his eyes on her she blushed. She was not as hesitant as last time, a small smile brightened her face, but her actions became timid.

She was in just his undershirt and his trousers when he came to her, cupping her face in his hands and brought her lips into a deep kiss. Her hands rubbed up his chest and wove their way into his hair, a soft sigh escaping her mouth. It wasn’t as heated as the day before and she was more confident in her affection. Nervously she began to kiss up his throat and neck towards his ear and he let her do what she wanted unhindered. Lifting herself she whispered into his ear, “is it bad that I want you so much again, Armitage?”

The gentleness of her voice, its message and the feeling of her hot breath on his air made groan lowly in pleasure. He took her ear between his teeth in retaliation and pulled her against his body. “It’s the best thing I could hope for, my Grace.”

It was as if a great wind had ripped the clothes off their bodies as they moved to their shared bed. Hux was thankful they had actually made it this time, the mattress was softer on his knees than the floor had been. The more attention he paid her tender spots the more her need swelled like the day before. This time he’d made the time kiss his way down her stomach, his faint red stubble and the brush of his lips tickling her soft skin. With his mouth pulling her clit, tongue giving careful wet pressure and his long fingers massaging her inside, deep and wet, he had the time to notice things about her body that he had not the attention for before. Hair did not tickle his nose like he’d expected, the skin was instead smooth and just beginning to see bumps of new growth. His hand rubbed up along her legs to feel fair hair that must have been so light that he hadn’t noticed. Hux smiled to himself in bemusement, wondering how she took such effective care for her sex but not bother to do the same to her legs. He didn’t know much about surviving in the wilderness, especially not as a woman, so he considered if it was practical, to relieve some discomfort during the warmer months.

Her hands were pulling at his hair before he’d realized that he’d been working her rather furiously in his daze. What seemed like quiet moaning had been her earth-shattering screams of pleasure, his name on her tongue like it was that of a god she needed to help her. The electricity of her pleasure echoed in his mind raced down his spine and he debated whether to stop in order to sate her own desire or push through to her orgasm. Hux thought of the countless times they could do this, unconcerned with if he found release every time they coupled, but her pleading dirtily for his cock in his mind convinced him. He tried his best to wipe her liquid from his mouth with his dry hand while the other slicked his cock and rubbed it against her. He wanted her so badly but watching her squirm under the feeling, and hearing her beg for him had his mouth pulled into a satisfied smirk. Eventually he’d tortured her enough and he pushed into her, feeling as if they’d become the same person. The warmth of her mind wrapped around his and their thoughts seemed to swirl together in the air in bliss. He felt her satisfaction at being filled with his flesh and every time he thrusted it was as if he felt it twice. His mind was abuzz with images of her face and soft words, feeling safe in her arms and the heat of the room.

Hux’s tongue had made quick work of her, it didn’t take long before he felt that familiar tense in her whole body and his name filled the room as her muscles squeezed him. It had snuck up on him and he cursed himself for not being ready to share her orgasm, he’d been too focused on getting her there. Eventually her body stopped quaking, and knowing she was done he began to slip out from her, but a strong hand put pressure on his lower back, keeping him from withdrawing. His green eyes looked down at her, confused, and were met with her impossibly large pupils. Her breath still labored he heard her in his ears without saying anything. “Please, I like knowing you enjoy my body, I like feeling you.”

He pressed his forehead against hers as he went back to thrusting his hips against hers. They weren’t the moans from before but soft sighs escaped her lips as he swelled and pushed against her soft walls. Hands were all over him, tracing the electric sensations scattering throughout his body. He wanted to kiss her and tell her sweet things but instead he groaned and cursed, unhindered by having already pleasured her and no need to be discreet. Her voice encouraged him to find every pleasure her body had to offer and soft hands soothed at his pounding pulse. Hux gripped the headboard with one hand, the knuckles turning white and nails digging into the wood. With the other he held down her hip, keeping her body from moving away from his as he thrusted hard into her. He ground his pelvis against hers and growled in animalistic need. He was so lost in himself he hadn’t noticed that tightness return around him and like the call of some distant beast he heard her faintly moan again, gripping his waist to pull him into her. He looked down at her face twisted in the return of pleasure and it urged him forward. Feeling her second orgasm approaching he pounded deep and rough, offering up curses and gruff moans. As her wave of pleasure peaked she moaned, with no hesitance or shame, “I love you so much, Armitage.”

The sound of his name, the sound of love, pushed him over the edge. He threw himself into the powerful orgasm, as if hurtling himself off a cliff and expecting the landing to be the best feeling in the world. Hux felt as if years of pent up frustration was washed out to sea as he spilled himself into her as her body still pulsed with her most recent pleasure. He rested his sweaty forehead against her collarbone, his mind turning into white snow. It began to fade when he felt her help him onto his back. A hand tried to wipe away his sweat but there was too much, he felt as if he’d been caught in a rainstorm. Before he felt himself slip into an exhausted and satisfied sleep, he found the strength to whisper, “I love you too.”

* * *

What dreams he had were pleasant and comforting like the warm blanket she’d placed over him as he slept. He remembered images of his mother, cobbled together from an old photo he’d once dug up. She was smiling and to her side was Grace, smiling and laughing together. He didn’t hear their conversation, but from what he could read on their lips, he’d been the subject.

He recalled other things, like being a child on the station. His subconscious was certain it would be another nightmare of abuse and feelings of isolation, but instead, when Brendol’s countenance came to haunt him again , a strange light came between them. Young Hux stared up at a dark figure in an officer’s uniform, in a leather-gloved hand was the mirror-polished hilt of a sword and its blade was made of dark power. His father backed off in fear, snapping to a salute. “General, to what do I owe this honor?”

“Believe me Mr. Hux, it is not an honor. Since you seem to have your hands full with your young son, I find it in my best interest to relieve you of him.” The figure turned to look at him, a mask made of ice melted and gave way to a warm smile and loving gaze. Brendol attempted to offer some resistance, feigning the concern of a dutiful parent. He’d managed only a few stammered words before she turned back to him, gaze piercing and voice honed to an edge. “There will be no argument from you, sir.”

Without another word or looking back, she turned on perfectly polished heels and reached down, scooping his small frame into her arms with ease. She rested him on her hip, his legs squeezing her abdomen, and her blues eyes were soft against his face. Planting a kiss against his bruised temple she whispered, “I’ll always protect you, my little General, as long as I draw breath.”

The memory filled his stomach with warmth and Hux hoped that he could hold onto it for when his thoughts turned cold. He sat up, body dull with ache, but he was determined to rejoin his sworn protector, his black-swathed knight. Disregarding modesty he ignored their discarded clothes strewn about the house and padded towards the sound and smell of food being cooked. In the orange glow of her fire she stood naked in her skin, stirring the bubbling stew in between distant glances out the window. He walked behind her, running his long fingers up her back. The friction made him realize just how filthy they’d both become from their activities. She chuckled as she leaned into him, feeling his fingers dig into the knots of her shoulders.

“We should really take a bath. And finally get around to cleaning your only clothes,” she whispered. He didn’t argue, though he admitted that he’d begun to enjoy his newfound ability to be unashamed in his nakedness outside of his personal washroom. Hux closed his eyes and buried himself in her neck, taking a deep inhale of her earthy and salty sweat. She smelled faintly sweet and he licked at her skin playfully. He was gently pushed away with laughter and he watched as she checked on their meal. Apparently satisfactory the pot floated through the air via the Force and sat on a stone block, its lid replaced with similar power and the fire snuffed in a puff of smoke as if she sucked the oxygen from it. “Let’s get that bath.”

When she’d led him outside he stopped beside the trough of water, expecting to use it as she had yesterday. Instead she grabbed his hand and pulled him around the house. From there she walked confidently along a path worn into the ground from years of her feet grinding away the grass and eventually large flat stone were placed to to even the terrain. Hux was not used to walking without shoes and winced at every pebble he stepped on or tangle of grass he snagged with his toes. But it was worth it to watch her naked backside walk in front of him, hips swaying with her gait and legs tensing. He was thankful he was so deeply exhausted or else he would have no way to hide his arousal at such a pleasing scene. Eventually they arrived at that distant glint he’d seen through the window and he watched as she stepped into it.

It was a pool, a hot spring if the steam was to be believed. She turned to him and beckoned him with her finger, a smirk on her lips. Apparently his baser instincts were pleased enough to fight through his tiredness and he felt his blood travel south. Carefully he picked his way towards where she leaned against the side of the spring, her eyes playfully staring up at him. Wary of his unreliable legs, he lowered himself to the edge, slipping his calves into the warm water. The heat soothed aches he didn’t even knew he had and he closed his eyes in satisfaction. He jumped as he felt something warm and wet touch his cock still standing in prideful attention. It had been her tongue and he watched as she carefully experimented with where she licked, growing bold enough to wrap her lips around him. Hux groaned, it had been so long since someone had offered their mouth to him that he’d forgotten the blissful sensation. His hand went into her hair and he let his mind drift away as he let her explore his body.

He felt as if he’d briefly drifted asleep when he came back to the sound of her disappointed sigh. Confused, he looked down to see her sad gaze pondering his now flaccid cock. Hux chuckled and brushed a wet lock of hair behind her ear. “It happens, especially when we’re exhausted. They leave us as quickly as they come but I assure you, it was not your fault.” She looked up at him and smiled, taking the opportunity to pull him into the spring with her. He felt his body relax, muscle that had been tense for years stretched and settled against his bones. After a moment of silence he looked at her again. “I’m curious, what compelled you to do that.”

Her face scrunched into thought and he smiled at the cute expression. “You did it for me, and it felt so good, so I tried my best to copy you. Of course it’s much different.” He agreed with her, rubbing at her wet shoulders and tracing the curve of her neck. Under the water she felt the muscles of his abdomen up to the gentle line of his chest. With a delicate touch she felt along his slight shoulders and down his thin toned arms. She seemed preoccupied with memorizing every detail of his body, from the way his back dimpled at the base to the unassuming mole on his right cheek. He felt as if he had a picture perfect image of her in his mind, recalling his dreams where she’d been so clear and crisp that she could have been standing next him. Hux let her stare into his eyes, letting her commit to memory the exact shade of green in his eyes, how his red eyelashes seemed so delicate against his skin, and the way his pupils widened when he looked or thought about her. Comfortable in their solitude and the warmth of their bath he pulled her into a passionate kiss. It was not meant to arouse her but instead convey a message he couldn’t put into words. He wanted her to know how much those dreams had meant to him, even though he’d known they weren’t real. He wanted to know how in awe he was of her, not only of what she’d made for herself here but also in the strength he felt in the air around her and the gentleness of her compassion.

As they sat soaking in the warm water his thoughts went back to his first days here and it felt strange how this had been his third day awake but they’d been together for ages. The gash he’d left on her face the day before was of course still red and swollen, whatever cream she’d made had done a good job of speeding the recovery of her bruise. His body not only had ached with their love-making but still with the pain of the shuttle crash. He remembered how it was now sunk beneath yards of muck, how she’d only been able to recover himself and a medkit, and how she herself had no way of leaving this planet. The realization that he might not have a choice but to stay here dawned on him, but not to his surprise his first thought was that if he’d one day be given the choice to come or stay, he’d surely stay. The only thing that would pry him from her would be the threat of her death. He’d rather be alone and know that she was still alive, maybe hear him in his mind systems away, than have her join his departed mother.

As he’d been lost in thought his hands wandered along her body, unconsciously find himself rubbing a finger along the smooth curve between her legs. The question he’d had ages ago finally bubbled to the surface. “How do you stay so soft?”

She laughed and smacked at his hands curled around her waist to break free. Holding her breath she sank herself below the surface beyond the natural bench they’d been sitting on and he saw the ends of her long hair play at the surface like seaweed in a current. It did not take her long before she came to the surface, replacing the air in her lungs and holding up two stones. They were shaped like eggs but their surface was porous and just a little rough to the touch. She smiled and gently lowered his head into the water, just enough to make sure the hair of his beard would soak in the heat. While they waited she peppered the rest of his face with light kisses, sitting in his lap to be closer. Eventually she began to gently press the stone into the hair in small circles. It scratched but he endured it, knowing she did this herself in much more sensitive places. When she was done with one spot he reached a tentative finger to rub against the skin. It was as if there’d never been hair on his face at all, though he wasn’t particularly surprised. Hux let her finish and when she at last pulled the rock away from his face he pressed the now-smooth skin against her lips. She giggled and, looking at him freshly shorn, slicked his hair with the water and pulled it back into an approximation of his old haircut.

She’d called him handsome but he felt off, even though his appearance was almost the same as it’s been since he attained an officer’s position. Staring at his reflection in the water, the face peering back at him did not feel like his own. The other man was sneering and cold, but that wasn’t him. Instead he pushed the copper strands out from their strict rows and let them fall more gently around his eyes and brushing his ears. He smiled back at himself, this felt better, he even considered growing out his beard, if Grace liked it.

Feeling thoroughly relaxed, clean and pruned he dragged her out of the water after him. Instead of following behind he walked beside her, tentatively reaching out to lace his fingers with hers. In the setting sun they glowed, skin drying in the open air as they made their way back. When they reached home they settled into the kitchen, the fire restarted, her stew still warm. Under a large blanket they sat together on the floor, using the dying flames to steal looks at each other between bites. They were comfortable in their silence, exchanging their contentedness where their skin touched. With meaningful glances and gentle nudges in the mind they made their way to bed, whispering words of love.


End file.
